a little laugh :-)

[pleasure{MTC}]

*hugs my email friends and scoots away before she gets a spanky*

Mommy Test

I was out walking with my 4 year old daughter. She picked up something
off the ground and started to put it in her mouth. I took the item away
from her and I asked her not to do that. "Why?" my daughter asked.
"Because it's been on the ground, you don't know where it's been, it's
dirty and probably has germs" I replied.
At this point, my daughter looked at me with total admiration and
asked,
"Mommy, how do you know all this stuff? You are so smart."

I was thinking quickly. "All moms know this stuff. It's on the Mommy
Test. You have to know it, or they don't let you be a Mommy." we walked
along in silence for 2 or 3 minutes, but she was evidently pondering
this new information.

OH...I get it!" she beamed, "So if you don't pass the test you have to
be the daddy." "Exactly" I replied back with a big smile on my face.

[pleasure{MTC}]

STUN GUN (Only a guy would do this!)

  Pocket Taser Stun Gun, a great gift for the wife. A guy who purchased his
lovely wife a pocket Taser for their anniversary submitted this :

   Last weekend I saw something at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop that  sparked
my interest. The occasion was our 22nd anniversary and I was looking for a
little something extra for my wife. What I came across was a 100,000-volt,
pocket/purse-sized taser. The effects of the taser were supposed to be short
lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her
adequate time to retreat to safety....
  WAY TOO COOL!

  Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded two
triple-a batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was
disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button AND pressed it
against a metal surface at the same time; I'd get the blue arch of
electricity darting back and forth between the prongs.

   Awesome!!!


   Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Betty what that burn spot is on
the face of her microwave.

  Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it
couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-a batteries, right?!!
   There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting
little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really
needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target.
  I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second)
and thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat. But, if I was going to
give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want
some assurance that it would work as advertised.
  Was I wrong?

  So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses
perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and
taser in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would shock
and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause
muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would
purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water.
Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries.

  All the while I'm looking at this little device measuring about 5" long,
less than 3/4 inch in circumference; pretty cute really and loaded with two
itsy, bitsy triple-a batteries) thinking to myself, "no possible way!" What
happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best...

   I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one
side as to say, "don't do it master," reasoning that a one-second burst from
such a tiny little ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad.. I decided to give
myself a one-second burst just for the heck of it.
  I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and
  HOLY MOTHER OF GOD, WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION@!@$$!%!@*!!!

  I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up
in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and
over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position,
with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles
nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest
position, and tingling in my legs. The cat was standing over me making
meowing sounds I had never heard before, licking my face, undoubtedly
thinking to herself, "do it again, do it again!"

  Note: If you ever feel compelled to "mug" yourself with a taser, one note
of caution: there is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap
yourself. You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your
hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor. A three second burst would
be considered conservative.

  SON-OF-A-... that hurt like hell!!! A minute or so later (I can't be sure,
as time was a relative thing at that point), collected my wits (what little
I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were
on the mantel of the fireplace. How did they up get there??? My triceps,
right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had
been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. I'm still
looking for my testicles?
  I'm offering a significant reward for their safe return

[Jay]

No matter how many times over the years I've read that taser story, it still nearly makes Me wet Myself, because it's just too fuckin' funny!

[Amber]

-wonders what I need to do to get a taser-

[familure{TD}]

The 4 puppies



A farmer had some puppies he needed to sell. He painted a sign
advertising the 4 pups. And set about nailing it to a post on the edge
of his yard. As he was driving the last nail into the post, he felt a
tug on his overalls. He looked down
into the eyes of little boy.

"Mister," he said, "I want to buy one of your puppies."

"Well," said the farmer,
as he rubbed the sweat off the back of his neck,
"These puppies come from fine parents and cost a good deal of money."

The boy dropped his head for a moment. Then reaching deep into his
pocket, he pulled out a handful of change and held it up to the farmer.

"I've got thirty-nine cents.
Is that enough to take a look?"
"Sure," said the farmer.
And with that
he let out a whistle.
"Here, Dolly!" he called.
Out from the doghouse and down the ramp ran Dolly followed by
four little balls of fur.

The little boy pressed his face against the chain link fence.
His eyes danced with delight.

As the dogs made their way
to the fence, the little boy noticed something else stirring inside the doghouse.
Slowly another little ball appeared, this one noticeably smal ler. Down
the ramp it slid. Then in a somewhat awkward manner, the little pup
began hobbling toward the others,
doing its best to catch up...

"I want that one," the little boy said, pointing to the runt. The
farmer knelt down at the boy's side and said, "Son, you don't want that puppy.
He will never be able to run and play with you like these other dogs
would."

With that the little boy stepped back from the fence, reached down, and
began rolling up one leg of his trousers.

In doing so he revealed a steel brace running down both sides of his
leg, attaching itself to a specially made shoe.

Looking back up at the farmer,
he said, "You see sir, I don't run too well myself, and he will need
someone who understands."

With tears in his eyes,
the farmer reached down and picked up the little pup.
Holding it carefully handed it to the little boy.

"How much?" asked the little boy.
"No charge," answered the farmer,
"There's no charge for love."

The world is full of people who need someone who understands.

[Ayelen]

You know, I can think of a few people who might actually be like that dude with the taser and do exactly what he did....

Man that was hilarious.  Reminds me of the guy that ran out of fluid for the BBQ and used "just a tad" of gasoline....

[Amber]

-wants a puppy now too-

[Jay]

heh heh heh


All hair removal methods have tricked women with their promises of easy, painless removal - The epilady, scissors, razors, Nair and now...the wax

My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, and play with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next few hours: "Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet." So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom.

It was one of those "cold wax" kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off. No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I'm not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out. (YA THINK!?!)

So I pull one of the thin strips out. Its two strips facing each other stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. ("Cold wax," yeah...right!) I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it tight and pull. It works! OK, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinaire.

With my next wax strip I move north. After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same
procedure, I apply the one strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my  *hoo-hoo* and stretching down to the inside of my butt cheek (Yes, it was a long strip) I inhale deeply and brace myself.... RRRRIIIPPP!!!!

I'm blind!!! Blinded from pain!!!!.... OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!! Vision returning, I notice tha t I've only managed to pull off half the strip. OH NO! What have I done???!!! Another deep breath and RRIIPP!! Everything is swirly and spotted. I think I may pass out...must stay conscious...Do I hear crashing drums??? Breathe,  breathe...OK, back to normal.

I want to see my trophy - a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold up the strip! There's no hair on it. Where is the hair??? WHERE IS THE WAX???

Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet. I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip. I touch. I am touching wax. WHAT?! I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted hair.

Then I make the next BIG mistake...remember my foot is still propped up on the toilet? I know I need to do something. So I put my foot down. My LIFE FLASHES BEFORE ME!!!!!! I hear the slamming of a cell door.
*Hoo-hoo*? Sealed shut! Butt?? Sealed shut!

I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do and think to myself "Please don't let me get the urge to poop. My head may pop off!" What can I do to melt the wax? Hot water!! Hot water melts
wax!!!

I'll run the hottest water I can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off, right??? WRONG!!!!!!!

I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than that used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit.

Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub...in scalding hot water. Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax.

So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cement-epoxied myself to the porcelain!!

God bless the man who had convinced me a few months ago to have a phone put in the bathroom!!!!!

I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how to get me undone. It's a very good conversation starter - "So, my butt and who-ha are glued together to the bottom of the tub!"

There is a slight pause. She doesn't know any secret tricks for removal but she does try to hide her laughter from me. She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, "Are we talking cheeks or hoo- ha?"

She's laughing out loud by now...I can hear her. I give her the rundown and she suggests I call the number on the side of the box. YEAH!!!!! Right!! I should be the joke of someone else's night.

While we go through various solutions. I resort to scraping the wax off with a razor. Nothing feels better then to have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and
then dry-shaving the sticky wax off!!

By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this event.

My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace....
the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax. What do I really have to lose at this point? I rub some on and OH MY GOD!!!!!!!

The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens out of my friend.

It's sooo  painful, but I really don't care. "IT WORKS!! It works!!" I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up.

I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair.... THE HAIR IS STILL THERE...ALL OF IT!!!!!!!!!!

So I recklessly shave it off. Heck, I'm numb by now. Nothing hurts. I could have amputated my own leg at this point.

Next week I'm going to try hair color... Now that's funny ... Notttttttttt!!!!

[RAGNAR]

JDL!!!

[Taryn]

I have done something that is in my mind a bit more painful, to which is why I rarely if I can shave my legs with a regular razor...

Soaking in a tub of hot water, just finished cleaning myself and decide that I am going to shave my legs, it's only been about 2 weeks, but I liked to have my legs smooth... ~tries not to cringe~ Those who have seen me know how tall I am, well my back is against the back of the tub, my left leg propped up in the corner against that little shelf there, and my knee is slightly bent... I lean forward with the razor in my left hand, this is a slow moment, as I am right handed and I am very careful... ~cringes and pulls her leg up in remembrance~ just as the razor hits the skin and I start to go upwards, I hear gun shots, which is a normal occurance in the neighborhood we were living in... anyways, I jump, the blades of the razor digs into my ankle bone and rips upwards taking off at least 5 layers of skin... leg drops into the hot, soapy and dirty water and instead of screaming at first, I just think about passing out, but don't, got close... after it settles over me what happened, the bath water is a nice shade of red, I calmly call out to hubby for him to come in... he flips and the guys that were in the living room appear in the bathroom and get me out of the tub and start to take care of me...

So needless to say, I don't shave all that much unless my electric shaver is working, and since that's rare, as it's old, I tend to look like a Kassar Free Woman... ~sighs and goes off to hide~

[RAGNAR]

*Shudders and Screams..... then RUNS!!!*

[Amber]

Yow Sis... However..have done something much like that..only no gunshots..no guys hanging out in the living room to take care of my naked butt..and I did it in the shower. Amber..is a klutz. -nods- Will show you the scar at the gathering -lol-  Right above my ankle bone..bled for days.

[pleasure{MTC}]

pleasure remembers the evilness of the razor... the slaughter of the flesh... Kassar here we come Mistress Taryn, if pleasure doesnt have nair, shes hairy! *giggles and scampers*

[familure{TD}]

The following is an actual question given on a University of Washington chemistry mid term.

The answer by one student was so "profound" that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well:

Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (Absorbs heat)?

Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some
variant. One student, however, wrote the following:

First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today.

Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added.

This gives two possibilities:

1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which
souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.

2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls
in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.

So which is it?

If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year that, "It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you," and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number two must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already frozen over. The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct......leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting "Oh my God."

THIS STUDENT RECEIVED AN A+

[Jay]

JFDLMTAO!!!